Why Don't We Talk About Bruno?

Here’s a small confession: My son and I love Encanto and have often watched the movie. “We don’t talk about Bruno” is our favorite song, and we are not alone. It topped the?Billboard 100?on February 5, 2022, and stayed there until March.

So why don’t we talk about Bruno?

My son always accuses me of giving out “spoilers,” so if you have been living under a rock and have not watched the movie, I will try not to talk too much about Bruno. But it is more what he represents that we need to discuss; Bruno is the family scapegoat whose gift of prophecy is given as the cause of all the family’s misfortune. In the movie, no one is willing to accept that the events unfolded due to chance or their actions. It was easier to make Bruno a villain because he had a gift they did not understand and was different, unwilling to fight back against his accusers.

In high school, we all knew a “Bruno,” someone who did not wear the “right clothes” and was not a member of the easily recognized cliches; they endured high school, but it was not their shining moment. Fast-forward twenty years, and most likely, they have had a glow-up and are running a Fortune 500 tech company or just living their best life away from the social purgatory that was high school.

That was then. Now, the tortured and marginalized have found solace in the World Wide Web and radicalized into groups that make what should just be the chrysalis of emotional intelligence into the final stop. This, too often to be ignored, manifests as angry young men with high-powered rifles taking out their frustration on classmates as a way of finally coming out of the shadows to be seen and heard, if only for one last time.

Being in the US and working with young people, I see the cognitive dissonance of a country that purports to be a melting pot but vilifies and celebrates individuality.

In high school, there was nothing worse than being different. I hated my name, when we went on school trips and looked for tourist mugs that had your name — mine was never found. I wanted to be a Jennifer or Ashley, who was always honored in porcelain. I was too tall to sit with the cute girls in the front row on picture day, and my hair was too curly and untamed for a cheerleader’s swishy ponytail.

It was only in medical school that I found my tribe. As many do, the Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC) lists more than 135 medical specialties and subspecialties. Everyone is represented: the jock (Orthopedic Surgery); the jock on the honor roll (CT Surgery); the ladies Man (Plastic Surgery); the cheerleader, both male, and female (OBGYN); the antisocial (radiology) and the goth guy or girl (pathology).

Initially, I thought I was neurosurgery, but like dating, we didn’t click. I had that love-at-first-sight moment with pediatric surgery, and I have never lost that loving feeling.

So why am I telling you all this? Because, dear reader, sometimes we kiss the wrong frog. But that should not be the end of your fairytale. You don’t need to stick it out in the wrong specialty or space because you have already come this far. In economics, this is the fallacy of sunk costs.

You don’t need to change yourself to find your place in medicine. You need to find the right frog. Embrace your weird and authentic self and find the right field of medicine and place to practice that lets you be Bruno and use your gifts in the light — where you are appreciated for your complete and authentic self. So, know that if that is not where you are now you are not the problem. The problem is that you have not found your tribe, for they will recognize you and welcome you as their own.

Brene Brown has said that the opposite of belonging is fitting in; that sounds like a recipe for burnout. So stay weird and let’s talk about Bruno because he and you are amazing.